


Day of the Tractor

by phoenixnz



Series: The Chronicles of Martha and Jonathan [13]
Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9377414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixnz/pseuds/phoenixnz
Summary: Martha reflects on her family





	

**Author's Note:**

> Scene based on the final moments of Vengeance. The title sucks but it just fit the moment.

There were often times when Martha still had to pinch herself when she looked at the beautiful dark-haired boy who was her son. Her father had told her when she was a child that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. Clark was literally out of this world but he was still her precious little man. He was five and growing up so fast. 

She would often pull out the photo albums and smile fondly at the pictures of Clark in the bath, or running around the farm. She would giggle to herself as she thought of pulling out the album on his twenty-first birthday and showing his girlfriend, whoever she may be, the photos of a three-year-old naked Clark. Of course, said girlfriend would have to know who or what Clark really was. Otherwise the photo of Clark naked in the snow would look more than a little odd. 

Martha could still remember the times Clark would tear off his pyjamas, refusing to wear them, even though the temperature outside was freezing. It was just one more little oddity about her son that she couldn’t reveal to others. He didn’t seem to feel the cold like most people. 

So far, other than that and his unusual strength, Clark hadn’t really shown any major differences. He no longer uttered words in that odd language he’d used when he’d first come to live with them. Martha supposed it had been inevitable, really. After all, there was no one else like him around so it would be completely natural for him to have forgotten his native language. 

Once they had been assured he could control himself and had learnt not to show his abilities to others, Jonathan had taken him to the park in town. Usually, Pete Ross, their friend Bill’s youngest son, would be there as well and the two boys would play in the sandbox. Clark was already referring to Pete as his ‘bestest friend in the whole wide world’, which Martha found adorable. 

It was strange that even after nearly three years, Clark still hadn’t met young Lana. For some odd reason, Nell, who had decided to adopt Lana after her parents’ deaths, refused to allow Lana to play with other children. At least, with those in Smallville. Nell had become even more protective of her niece since the adoption. Martha could understand that. After all, the woman had lost her sister and brother-in-law and they had been killed right in front of them. Martha could imagine the terror the other woman had felt. 

Nell still ran the flower shop in town, but Martha and Jonathan rarely visited the shop. They had too many other things going on. 

They were still struggling financially. The farm had seen little profit in the past few years. The recession had hit them all hard. Jonathan wanted to lay the blame solely at the feet of Lionel Luthor, but Martha, as pragmatic as she had always been, felt he was being too hard on the businessman. Sure, Lionel, from what she had heard, was fairly unscrupulous. She had lived among people like the Luthors in Metropolis and knew exactly what they were like. Had she not fallen in love with a farmer, Martha often wondered if she would have become exactly like them. 

Of course, then Jonathan would remind her that deep down, she was nothing like them. Even if she was rich or married to a lawyer or doctor as her father had wanted for her, she would never be like that. It just wasn’t in her, her husband often told her.

It was moments like those that reminded Martha just how lucky she was to have found someone like Jonathan Kent. Maybe they would never have much in terms of money, but they were richer in so many other ways. 

As she watched her husband drive the tractor out of the barn, while Clark stood jumping up and down in the snow in excitement, she couldn’t help but think again of how lucky they were. Clark adored his father and it was mutual. 

Jonathan was grinning as he stopped the tractor and got down, coming over to her.

“Ready sweetheart?” he asked.

“For what?” she replied.

He picked up the video camera. Martha had no idea how he could have afforded it, but he’d given it to her last Christmas. She already had dozens of tapes filled with footage of their little boy and his antics. Nothing showing his abilities, however. Martha dreaded the idea of someone getting a hold of those tapes and exposing Clark to the world. So she had been careful not to film anything which showed him as anything other than a cute little boy. 

Jonathan lifted Clark in his arms and carried him over to the tractor. Clark clapped his hands in glee. He’d been bugging his father about being able to go on the tractor, clearly curious about how it worked. While Jonathan of course wanted his son to inherit the farm, Martha wasn’t sure she should encourage it.

Clark was almost like a miniature of his father, preferring to wear the same style of clothing, right down to the plaid shirts. Of course, due to practicality, Martha was only too happy to allow her son to imitate his father. She often picked up the plaid flannel on sale and because it was so cheap, she could afford enough to make a shirt for her husband and a shirt for Clark as well. 

Today, the five-year-old had chosen to wear a plaid shirt and blue jacket. He had reached the stage now where it wasn’t cool to have Mommy choose his clothes for him and he sometimes came up with odd combinations, but she didn’t object. Her little boy was starting to assert his independence. 

“Martha, are you getting this?” Jonathan called out.

She looked up, realising Jonathan was sitting back on the tractor. Clark was sitting on his lap, his hands on the wheel of the tractor. Of course, the machine was far too heavy for Clark, even with his strength, to control, so Jonathan had one hand on the wheel.

“Here, go that way,” he guided their son. “Make a figure eight.”

“Please be careful,” Martha called.

Jonathan grinned at her, shaking his head at her tone, before calling out:

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s gonna be fine.”

Martha almost snorted. There were times when Jonathan’s antics didn’t always go to plan. She loved her husband but she knew better than to trust him at his word.

“That’s what you always say,” she shot back.

The tractor seemed to swing around and Clark frowned in concentration.

“That way?” he asked. Martha wasn’t sure which way he meant. Jonathan continued to guide him, then laughingly replied to Martha’s comment. 

“What, are you kidding? This young man’s a man of steel. Look at him!” He again guided Clark with one hand on the wheel. “Make one more turn.”

Martha frowned, one eye on the camera as she recorded the scene for posterity, still wondering what he was doing.

“Where are you going?”

“I thought I’d show our son the back forty,” Jonathan replied. “After all, it’s gonna be his one day.” As he spoke he turned the tractor, then turned his head and smiled at the camera.

“Clark, wave ‘bye to Mommy, son.” He waved. “Bye bye.”

With that, he guided the tractor toward the back forty acres of the farm, slowly disappearing off camera. Martha stopped taping, her gaze following them until they disappeared.


End file.
